Page 60 of Taming Hawke

He takes a sip of his whisky, and taps the glass on the table. “What do I want?” he repeats. “I asked you here, Hawke, because I need you to influence your president. And I think you can do it.”

I inhale deeply. “Influence my president to do what?” I ask, growing impatient.

“Your president and his club interfered in my business. Usually, I would have you all killed, but I’m willing to reconsider if you convince your president to be my New York distributor.”

And there it is; I should have known. Quill’s father was Santana’s previous distributor, and we used to help with the transportation of drugs once it arrived at our docks. Quill only did it because his old man had a hold on him, had the power to have him thrown back in jail if he didn’t follow his father’s orders. But that ended when Quill took his old man’s life. It had to be done. We don’t talk about it, but when his old man abducted Jasmine, and used her as a pawn to get Quill to continue to smuggle the drugs, Quill got his revenge.

“So let me get this straight,” I say sitting back in my chair. “You want my club to take over from where Quill’s old man left off?”

“I see you are getting the point.”

“And what if I was to say no?”

I see Santana’s knuckles whiten as he squeezes his glass. “Well I would say, Hawke, that you can kiss Josie and your club goodbye.”

My eyes look up and lock on Josie’s. “She’s nothing to me anymore, Santana. You wanna kill her, go ahead.” I spit the words out, and struggle to conceal my panic.

He laughs huskily. “Is that right?”

“That’s right,” I repeat, taking another sip of my whisky and calling his bluff.

“Well then, you won’t mind if I fuck her with this.” He removes a blade from inside his jacket and points it at me, running a finger over its edges. I hear a sob from above, and I don’t need to look up to know Josie is the one crying.

Still trying to call his bluff, I cross my arms over my chest. “Go ahead, Santana.”

“Javier!” he orders looking up to the railings above.

“Yes, boss?”

“Bring her down here.”

I watch as Javier grabs Josie’s arm and pushes her forward. She tries to fight back but is no match for Javier’s strength. He’s muscled and strong-looking, she’s skinny and looks as if she hasn’t eaten in days. Her skirt sits low on her hips, showing how much weight she’s lost recently.

Once down the stairs, Javier drags her to our table. He pulls her arms around her back, holding them there so tightly her eyes squint with the pain.

I grind my teeth when Santana slides the point of the blade down the side of Josie’s face, leaving a slim cut, and blood starts dripping down her cheek. Her eyes plead with me to do something, her look fucking heart-wrenching. Her screams are muffled by the rag covering her mouth, and Santana looks over to me, the blade now pointing at Josie’s neck.

“Did you know that this little puta owes me ten thousand dollars?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “For what?”

“Did she not tell you she was selling for me on the streets? The only problem is, she was sniffing more than she was selling. Isn’t that right, puta?” he says, piercing her skin again with the point of his blade.

She’s fucking working for Santana? Fuck, Josie, what have you gotten yourself into?

Tears fall from her eyes as the knife travels lower, cutting her white lacy top open and revealing her breasts and stomach. Her chest is rising fast as she struggles to breathe, and I don’t miss a beat when he pushes the knife beneath the center of her bra and cuts it open. Her breasts are now on full display, her nipples erect as the coolness of the warehouse hits them.

“Beautiful,” Santana says as he caresses her nipples, but then squeezes them tightly, causing Josie to scream. “It’s a pity I will be cutting these nipples off.”

Josie’s head snaps to me, her eyes wide.

Fuck my life.

The blade outlines the curve of her left breast, and once again Santana pulls on her nipple and places the blade just above it. I hear Josie’s muffled cries as the blade cuts into her skin, and my hands grip the edge of the table, the only thing holding me back from beating the fuck out of Santana.

“Stop it!” I finally yell. “All right, you fucking win. Just stop.”

“Ah,” Santana says placing the blade down on the table in front of him. I look over to Josie, her eyes are closed in relief. “You’re a smart man, Hawke.”

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